Iii

But not our filmy pinion We scorch amid the blaze of day, When Noontide's fiery-tresséd minion Flashes the fervid ray. Aye from the sultry heat We to the cave retreat O'ercanopied by huge roots intertwin'd With wildest texture, blacken'd o'er with age: Round them their mantle green the ivies bind, Beneath whose foliage pale Fann'd by the unfrequent gale We shield us from the Tyrant's mid-day rage.